


Episode 4: The Photographs

by c000kiesandcream



Series: The One with the Sitcom AU [4]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: M/M, New York, Sitcom, Sitcom AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 05:33:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9705479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/c000kiesandcream/pseuds/c000kiesandcream
Summary: Yuuri wakes up with a terrible hangover. Surely it can't get any worse?





	

**Author's Note:**

> New Chapter!  
> I know I've posted in between my last chapter and this one but I couldn't quite get this one right. I wanted to make sure it stuck to my original plan for the fic, but my stories tend to run away with themselves.  
> Enjoy, and as always let me know what you think.

There were three sharp knocks at the yellow door, and a clatter as the letter box flipped open. Yuuri groaned, rolling away from his bedroom door to face the window. A soft, yellow light was streaming through his open curtains, reflecting off the whitewash wall that was directly opposite his room. He closed his eyes, the light shining through his eyelids, clouding his vision with a pinkish hue. The letterbox rattled again, and it was clear that Phichit was not going to answer it any time soon.

He groaned again as he pushed his body up, stretching into a yoga position he remembered from the sessions he had taken at home. It felt good, his muscles slowly stretching out. As he swung his legs off the bed, he tapped his phone, but the screen remained black. It was plugged in, but as Yuuri pulled the wire, he groaned again, the USB hanging in the air.

The knocking on the door was more urgent this time, and Yuuri stretched into a standing position, before dragging his feet to his bedroom door.

He pulled it open, his arms sluggish as the reality of his hangover settled in his mind. Surprisingly, Phichit was there, leaning into the open yellow door, practically clinging it for support. He was only wearing his shirt from last night, unbuttoned and creased.

A bright eyed, bushy-tailed Victor stood in the hallway. His skin was glowing with the morning sun, and his eyes were wide, with not even a hint of a dark circle. Yuuri leaned against his own door-frame, yawning, rubbing his eyes groggily.

‘Yuuri! You’re not dressed either? It’s already 8am!’ He looked through his hair at Yuuri, who just offered a strained smile in response. Victor’s sweatpants were almost as tight as his yoga pants, a contrast to the loose-fitting shirt he wore.

‘Victor, please, it’s _Saturday_ ,’ Phichit had left the door. Groaning, he fell face first onto the couch. Yuuri just watched, the scene blurry with both his lack of sleep and glasses.

‘Exactly, and the city is awake,’ Victor chirped, walking over to the bay window to fling open the large curtains that shielded the boys from the delicate rays of early morning sunlight. They both turned away with loud noises of protest. Victor stood with his hands on his hips, pouting.

‘Yuuri, you _promised_ you would come with me last night! Remember? You said you wanted a trainer, well, here I am!’ He held his arms out, offering a smile. Phichit looked up in disbelief.

‘This is _your_ fault? Oh, _man_ ,’ He pulled the blanket that was draped over the couch down to cover his eyes, and Yuri shook his head.

‘I don’t remember-’ Victor was already making his way out of the apartment.

‘I will let you off this week because it _was_ last minute and I’m sure you already have breakfast plans, but next week, Yuuri, next week, 7:30,’ He turned to wiggle his finger at Yuri, before pulling the door sharply shut, hard enough to cause the letter box to clatter again.

‘Yuuri, please. _It’s Saturday_ ,’ Phichit repeated, the noise muffled slightly by the blanket covering his face.

‘You’re a mess,’ Yuuri’s feet dragged his body back to bed, where he fell face forward onto the sheets.

The mattress dipped, and Yuri feels his body roll slightly to the right in response to Phichit’s weight.

‘So, care to explain? Why did _Victor_ think you two were going jogging?’ A bony elbow pressed into Yuri’s ribs, and the motion made him nauseous.

‘Well, I needed a smoke-’

‘ _Yuri!_ ’ Phichit had sat up now, nudging Yuri’s shoulder.

‘Yeah, I know, spare me the lecture. I needed a smoke, so I came out of the party, but I didn’t have enough here,’ Yuri glanced sideways at Phichit, who shrugged.

‘Nothing to do with me,’ Phichit was scrolling on his phone while they spoke, a habit Yuri was familiar with. He held his poker face well, but Yuuri was still suspicious.

‘Yeah, well, thanks for _that_. Anyway. I went down to Eric’s, and guess who met me in the lobby. He just tagged along, no biggie, we walked, and we just talked. I dunno, champagne makes me fuzzy,’ Yuri’s final confession came as a murmur as his phone buzzed into life.

He pulled himself into a sitting position, leaning against his headboard, as he reached down to. They both struggled to cope with hangovers, and now they were awake their respective headaches felt overwhelming. There was very little chance that they would go back to sleep now.

‘Wait, you went _alone_? With _Victor_?’ Phichit didn’t look up from his phone, using his fingers to zoom on something. He then looked up at Yuri with wide eyes.

‘Yeah, why?’ Yuri scrambled for his glasses before snatching Phichit’s phone out of his outstretched hand.

He froze. The picture was blurry, but it was definitely one of himself and Victor. Someone, from behind the railings of the park, had snapped Yuri and Victor in the moment that Yuri had lit Victor’s cigarette, leaning in so that the flame was guarded. They looked close, _really_ close.

The second photo was Yuri taking the Red Vine, smiling as he alternated between smoking and eating. He remembered the moment, and through his champagne memory he was sure nothing untoward had happened. He couldn’t think.

Suddenly, as Yuri’s phone registered that it was connected to the internet, it sprung to life, pinging, buzzing, messages scrolling on the screen faster than the phone could cope.

Yuri put his head in his hands, as Phichit read the article that accompanied the photos:

 

_Victor Nikiforov, 27 year old international superstar, was snapped getting cosy with a stranger on the corner of 72 nd Street yesterday evening. (Here, Yuri groaned). The two were well dressed, and shared both a smoke and a snack, while staying close as they walked the streets of New York._

_The model has recently moved into the city with his partner-in-crime Christophe Giacommetti, 25. The two are currently working on Tom Ford’s latest brand campaign, and are often snapped together in the upmarket bars and clubs on Broadway. Their favourite haunt is Zelda’s._

_While both men were dressed to the nines, the mystery man looked less than comfortable in his slacks and jacket. What remains to be seen is if the two are, as these pictures suggest, more than comfortable with each other._

_A Snapchat from earlier that evening shows Nikiforov with two new friends. Perhaps one of them is the mystery man._

 

Yuri hadn’t lifted his head from his hands. His palms were pressing his eyes further into their sockets until he could see specks of colour.

Suddenly, a loud ringing echoed around the room, causing both boys to cover their ears, whining in unison at the loud noise.

Yuri snatched the phone up, and was met with a loud, angry voice on the other end.

‘Yuri, what the _hell_? You’re friends with _Viktor Nikiforov_ and you _didn’t think to mention it_?!’ the voice bellowed. Yuri held the phone at an arm’s length, wincing even at this distance.

‘JJ, can you not scream at me? What do you _want_?’ Yuuri sank down to the foetal position around his phone, the receiver buzzing with the voice at the other end.

‘Paper, _now_ ,’ the phone line died, and Yuuri groaned.

After a couple of minutes’ silence, Phichit stood up.

‘So, is JJ gonna come and drag you out into the street?’ Phichit had hopped off the bed, and straight into the kitchen. There was a bang, and Yuri rolled off the bed himself.

‘We might as well have gone for the jog, it would be better than suffering now, _knowing_ ,’ Yuri moped, following, dropping into a seat at the dining table. ‘And the article was so poorly written, I should have written it myself.’

His ears were sensitive to the scraping metal as Phichit searched for the correct pan, and the coffee pot boiled aggressively. There was still constant buzzing from his bedroom, and Yuri placed his head on the table.

After five minutes, the smell of pancakes was filling the apartment. Yuri dragged himself to rescue his phone while Phichit plated up, tapping out a single message to JJ.

_Give me half an hour._

* * *

The offices were located almost in the heart of campus. After pancakes, Yuri had slipped on a hoody, poured himself a coffee to go, and hailed a cab from the sidewalk. Yuri didn’t feel like cycling today. Plus, he wasn’t sure whether he would stay upright on his bike, given the fact he could still feel the alcohol in his system. It didn’t feel like he’d had that much to drink, but he must have done. Especially as he didn’t remember his walk with Victor looking so _intimate_. He hoped Chris hadn’t seen, but he knew this was wishful thinking. Chris had a greater online presence that Phichit, and _that_ was saying something.

Yuri paid his fare, and jogged up the steps to the office. He turned and looked out at the wide green of the campus, a scattering of leaves being blown in circles around the courtyard. He loved university, and it was his nice to have some calm before the storm.

He threw open the double doors, and the clattering of keys stopped. Everyone looked up, Yuri counted 14 pairs of eyes, before he saw the huge board that was used for outline. His face, smiling at Victor, red vine between his teeth, was blown up, printed at a poor resolution. From behind this board stepped Jean-Jaques Leroy.

JJ was as tall as the chalk board, leaning against the edge with his arms crossed. His hair was dishevelled, and his dark eyes, made darker from his lack of sleep and annoyance. The smile that stretched across his face made him look slightly deranged, and he clapped his hands once in front of his face.

‘Chop chop, guys, we have a special edition we need to get out in _two hours_.’

With that, the tapping recommenced, buzz in the room built up, and Yuri breathed. The silence can’t have been longer than 30 seconds, but to Yuri it felt like a lifetime.

‘So, it looks like we have a celebrity in our midst,’ JJ slapped Yuri on the back, holding his hand there and using it to push him to his desk, which was behind the board, cut off from the rest of the writers.

‘I wouldn’t say _celebrity_. My name isn’t even mentioned,’ Yuri sat on the desk, sipping the last of his coffee. The headache that had threatened on his way over here had subsided slightly, mostly due to the three cups of coffee he had drunk before leaving, and the one he had just finished. He was currently running exclusively on caffeine, and his hands were shaking very slightly.

‘Still, this is _big_ news, Katsuki. We can do an expose, and you could get us an interview with _Victor Nikiforov_ , do you know what that would do for my _career_?’ JJ leaned in as he said this, maintaining eye contact. Yuri shook his head, hopping off the desk and taking his seat behind his own desk opposite. His incoming pile had grown on his day off, and he started working through it before a head popped up from behind the board.

‘Hey, Yuri, can I take the photos for the interview with Victor? Is he going to be coming to the offices?’ The head smiled, glancing at JJ before looking back at Yuri. Leo was a freshman who had dazzled JJ with his two-year run as editor at his school’s paper, and he was always eager to impress. Yuri just shook his head.

‘That is _not_ happening. I don’t even _know_ him that well, he only moved in a couple of weeks ago-’ JJ’s pencil snapped in his hand.

‘You _live with him_?’ Yuri waved his hands dramatically, jumping up, pressing his fingers to his lips.

‘No, no, no. He’s my neighbour, but that cannot leave this desk. Or board,’ he gestured behind him, stage-whispering so that Leo could hear. JJ glanced behind him at Leo, and Yuri held his hands out, pleading.

‘You heard him. Now, go finish up the middle pages,’ JJ glowered at his computer screen, and Yuri mouthed the words ‘thank you’ before retaking his seat.

He turned on his computer, and logged onto his email, flicking through the first stack of papers he’d pulled off the incoming pile.

* * *

When the clock in the offices hit midday, Yuri stood up. Leo had brought him another cup of coffee an hour ago, and it helped him work through his mid-morning slump. JJ had burnt out, exhausted from his late-night writing. Once layout was locked in, the journalists dispersed, leaving Yuri and JJ alone.

‘I’m heading out to lunch, do we need to be back for anything?’ He half yawned as he spoke, stretching into his hoody. JJ shook his head.

‘Issy is coming in this evening to get the Sunday edition out like always. It’s up to you if you want the extra work, but you look dead. Hot date for lunch?’ JJ turned his computer off, pushing his chair out without looking up from his phone.

‘If you mean Victor then no, just my roommate. See you Monday then,’ Yuri waved as he ducked out of the office, not waiting for JJ to rope him into working tomorrow afternoon.

He pulled the doors shut behind him, and jogged down the steps and onto the grass. Deciding not to take a cab, he strolled across campus, grabbing a coffee on his way out of the gates.

The mid-afternoon sun shone brilliantly in the cloudless sky, a chill wind picking up as Yuri left the confines of campus and walked down the open street that ran parallel to Central Park. He turned sharply into the open, green space and smiled. Couples jogging with dogs were scattered in his vision; young families walking with buggies and toddlers trailing behind them; college students enjoying one of the finer afternoons, casually tossing Frisbees to and fro. It could have been summer, but Yuri pulled his sleeves down as the chill bit his fingers.

It took half an hour for him to walk to his apartment, and when he got there, he was grateful that Phichit was out.

The coffee had made Yuuri feel unwell, his stomach rolled over as the full extent of his hangover mixed with the caffeine. Before the inevitable vomit, he decided to have a lie down.

* * *

Laughing reverberated around the living room, infiltrating Yuuri’s now dark bedroom.

As he had done that very morning, he rolled over and looked through his lashes at the now dark window. Artificial streetlight now shone through the glass, and again he heard laughter from the other side of the door. Phichit had returned, and from the smell coming from under his door he had ordered takeout with whoever he had invited back. Instead of getting up, Yuuri strained his ears, listening to see if he could recognise the voices.

Musical, delicate laughter echoed around the room, making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. That was Victor, which meant that the other voice, low, sultry, must be Chris. Softly padding over to the door to listen to the conversation, Yuuri closed his eyes as he pressed his ear to the wood. It was muffled, but he could make out most of it.

‘Yuuri was _pretty_ embarrassed about those photos though,’ Phichit admitted. Yuuri was going to kill him when they left.

‘Oh, don’t be so _silly_! We went for a walk, it was _nothing_ , they always do this’ Victor chimed. Yuuri swallowed in the darkness, acutely aware of what felt like a stabbing sensation to his chest.

‘So you’re telling me, Mr. Nikiforov, that you do _not_ have feelings for the cute, chubby ne- Ow!’ Chris yelped, hopefully because Phichit had stabbed him with his chopsticks.

‘Don’t be so _rude_ ,’ Yuuri was surprised to hear Victor hiss. He gulped.

‘Oh, please, you have a _crush_ on him, you have since the moment you met him,’ Chris sounded annoyed, but Yuuri wasn’t paying attention.

Victor had a _crush_ on him.

‘Be that as it may, he does _not_ seem particularly interested. He doesn’t really talk to me, which is fine, but I just wish we could spend some more time together,’ Victor sighed. ‘You guys are the best neighbours we have ever had, you’re so funny, and interesting.’

Yuuri’s stomach flipped. Now he wished he had left his room, partly because he wanted to see Victor, but mostly because now he had woken up properly, he was desperate for the bathroom. And the smell of takeout was incredibly tempting.

Perhaps he could climb out of the fire escape, he considered, glancing at the window. It wasn’t that far down. He could lower himself, climb to the bottom floor and re-enter the building, pretending he had just got back from the paper.

This could work.

Prising the window open, Yuuri crouched on his desk, looking down at how far the fire escape actually was. If he held onto the ledge, he could limit the distance between himself and the cold metal grates. He gulped.

Time for plan B.

Snatching his phone up, he pulled open his conversation with Phichit. As he pulled is shoes on, he typed out a message.

_**Phichit – help!** _

_**I’m trapped in my room** _

_**Oh god this is a disaster.** _

He heard the text tone through the door, leaning against it.

‘Oh hey, it’s Yuuri,’ Phichit proclaimed. Yuuri waited for the next words.

‘Look’s like he’s on his way back, and he wants to know if I wanted coffee. How _considerate_. Do you guys want anything?’ Phichit lied. Yuuri released a breath he didn’t realise he was holding.

‘Chai latte for me, Caramel Macchiato for Chris,’ Victor replied, Chris laughed.

‘You know me so well.’

‘Oh, hey, it’s nearly 9, wanna see something cool?’ Phichit stamped his feet as he walked, Yuuri could trace his path across the living room. The window snapped open loudly, and Yuuri heard the shuffling as they slipped onto the balcony.

After a couple of seconds’ silence, Yuuri poked his head around the door. The room was deserted, and he could see Phichit through the window, pointing across the street.

As quietly as possible, he ran across the living room. He threw himself out of the door, pulling it quietly shut behind him, before backing down the hallway. Within 5 minutes he was back at his apartment, drinks in hand, carefully pushing the door back open.

‘Yuuri!’ Three voices called out, Phichit’s with faux-surprise. His eyes winked, but Yuuri wasn’t looking.

He was watching Victor, who was sat closest to the door, hand out to accept the coffee cup he was being handed. Yuuri tried not to blush too much, but he felt the warmth in the tips of his ears as he took a seat on one of the armchairs.

‘So, what have you guys been doing? The paper nearly _killed_ me today,’ Yuuri chugged his coffee, reaching for one of the half-finished take-out containers that littered the table.

‘Well, we were just talking about how you must have a ghost, because we were sure your door was shut, but after Phichit dragged us outside to see that guy over the street doing _naked yoga_ ,’ Chris glanced at Phichit who shrugged, ‘your door was open.’

Yuuri choked, spluttering on a mouthful of coffee.

‘Strange, isn’t it?’ Victor smiled, delicately opening the lid of his latte, blowing the steam carefully.

‘Yeah, weird.’


End file.
